Survival of the Smartest
by Elemental-Zer0
Summary: Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD) and their differences to the average human psyche in life or death scenarios: A detailed report of an illegal experimentation to discern the differences between sociopaths and the average psyche. Subject 25 – Shawn Spencer, 37, Santa Barbara, California USA. A most unusual Subject indeed. He may yet survive the tests. (Shawn Whumpage).
1. Prologue - Let the Games begin

**Survival of the Smartest…**

 **Summary** : _Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD)_ _and their differences to the average human psyche in life or death scenarios:_ A detailed report of an illegal experimentation to discern the differences between sociopaths and the average psyche. Subject 25 – Shawn Spencer, 37, Santa Barbara, California USA. A most unusual Subject indeed. He may yet survive the tests.

 **Disclaimer:** This is a fan-fiction story of the TV show; Psych, and is in no way affiliated with the actual show. All characters and other materials related to the show that are used are not intended to infringe on any Copyrights. Elemental-Zer0 takes sole responsibility for any mistakes or offence that may be taken but truly not meant. However, any characters that are not related to any copyrights are copyrighted to Elemental-Zer0 as is any variations to the plot set out in the show.

 **Authors Note** : Can you guess what I've been reading lately? Yes this is a combined plot idea of The Maze Runner and The Hunger Games with a slight hint of Sherlock (BBC T.V series) if you tilt your head and squint your eyes. I don't lay claim to any of their plots, this story was only inspired by the two series of books and the "High-Functioning Sociopath" references in Sherlock (which many are still stating as untrue for the original Sherlock character – I'm not sure myself but it made a good show regardless). I figured this would be an interesting plot to follow.

Do let me know what you think, but no flames please. If you have any criticism to make please do it _politely_ otherwise I shall ignore your words. (It's happened before, I'm sorry to say, and I hadn't even posted any real chapters…)

* * *

 _ **Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD)**_

ASPD is referred to as psychopathy or sociopathy in popular culture. It is one of the most alarming personality disorders because it might lead to crime if it wasn't properly diagnosed and treated. The onset of ASPD could be traced back to early adulthood or adolescence. ASPD can consist of a _majority_ of the following symptoms. It is important to note that not all symptoms may be present in a patient with ASPD.

 _ **Symptoms:**_

 _Failure to conform to societal norms; people with ASPD challenge the law and tend to get in to trouble often / impulsivity / repeated lying / use of fake aliases / conning others / mild to major aggressiveness / irritability / lack of remorse or empathy / recklessness / disregard for others' feelings and safety / irresponsibility (especially at work)_

* * *

 **Prologue:** _ **Let the Games begin**_

In all his impressive thirty-seven years of life, Shawn Spencer had quite honestly never imagined himself to be in this strange predicament.

Ok so 'strange predicament' was a loose and very light term for the situation he found himself in but he'd run out of expletives and obscenities in the first two minutes after he'd woken up in a very dark, very small concrete box. He'd never really been claustrophobic; a good thing too for he'd have never survived the lessons his father had put him through, but this was really beginning to test his previously non-existent fears of small spaces. The room - _if you could call it a room_ \- was as wide as his elbow span, as short as his body when folded with his knees to his chest, and as tall as he could crouch on all fours. He couldn't lay flat or even sit up without a concrete wall, floor or ceiling sitting resolutely in the way. It was pitch black too, so he had no idea if there was any handle or niche he could utilise to escape with. He'd already run his hands all over the minuscule space with nothing to find except dust, mildew and patches of dried dirt caked into the concrete surface.

With no other clues to follow, he thought back using his eidetic memory and thought palace to the mad man who'd inflicted this fate upon him and tried to recall what he had explained when Shawn had awoken in a strange and unknown warehouse after having been abducted in the first place before this disaster of a situation. The man had explained that he was testing several candidates using various scenarios to stimulate life or death decisions and the differences between normal ordinary people and high-functioning sociopaths apparently he wanted to know what made the Sociopaths tick and why they were different. He said something about the normal people only being there as a comparative and really doubted any of them would survive at all. Personally, Shawn had never seen himself fall under either category but clearly this man had decided he was worth studying and had warranted enough effort to kidnap and trap inside a maze of challenges and scenes for his 'research'.

The catch however was that the whole affair was a race and that itself was also a life or death scenario; the first to complete the tasks and escape the 'maze' would be rewarded with their life. Those who were left behind, would forfeit their lives. He really didn't want to think about that. He was screwed either way; if he wanted to live, his winning would kill several others who were also fighting tooth and nail to survive. If he wanted a clear conscience, he'd have to choose to die knowing that others were dying with him.

Shawn whimpered in frustration as the enormity of his situation was finally setting in. This was kill or be killed. And he had no idea what he was up against.


	2. Chapter 1 - MIA

**Survival of the Smartest…**

* * *

 **Chapter One:** _ **M.I.A**_

"Has anyone seen my good for nothing son?!" The whole department looked up as an angry Henry Spencer stalked into the station, headed straight for Juliet's desk. Juliet frowned in confusion, as far as she was aware Shawn had taken off on his bike to go on a camping trip with his father and she hadn't heard from him since he'd left. She'd assumed that Henry had picked a campsite that had no signal and so didn't really think much of it.

"He left three days ago to meet you at your place. I waved him off. I've heard nothing from him since then. Did he take off while camping?" She asked, wondering if the two had had another argument. It wasn't unheard of. But when Henry's face dropped, her stomach followed.

"He never showed up. I thought he was just hiding to get out of going." The implications of Shawn going missing were unclear. There were times when he'd detour on a hunch and investigate something that caught his attention but that was usually case related and he wasn't currently consulting on any cases at the moment. Then there were times when he'd take off for sporadically with no warning to visit a friend in the next few towns over, usually someone she'd never heard of but assumed he'd made friends while he was travelling away from home all those years before she'd met him. Sure, he had a history of taking off completely before now, but Juliet liked to think that she was worth staying for. He certainly hadn't shown any signs of distress or said anything that would imply he was getting itchy feet for a longer stretch of spontaneous travelling.

Wordlessly she picked up her phone and dialled another well learned number. If Shawn hadn't called her to tell her of the details of his latest tryst, there was only one other person he trusted enough to share these random adventures of his with and that would be his best friend.

"I've already tried him, no answer. He must be in cohorts with Shawn on this." Henry commented, clearly picking up on who Juliet was calling. Juliet just gave him a withering look before paying attention to the click that indicated someone had picked up the phone.

"What's he done now?" Came the greeting of one Burton Guster, known by his close friends as Gus. It wasn't the first time she'd heard him answer the phone to her with that greeting and usually it was a good call because Shawn _had_ actually done something. But the fact that Gus was asking, meant that Gus didn't know anything otherwise he'd have had a pre-prepared speech ready of how Shawn was only clearing his head or visiting a friend or something or just not picked up at all.

"He's disappeared. You don't happen to know anything about that do you?" She asked, concern leaking through her professional manner.

"Disappeared? I thought he was camping with his dad?" Gus asked, concern now leaking into his voice. "Did they have an argument again?" Clearly, Gus was also familiar with Shawn and Henry's arguments, and how that could lead to Shawn disappearing for a short while to clear his head.

"No, he didn't show up at Henry's. He's just come in asking if anyone's seen Shawn." Juliet replied; worry beginning to cloud her mind.

"Oh, that explains the missed call from earlier. Henry tried calling me this morning but I was driving to a client of mine." Gus replied nonchalantly, and then the thought occurred to him that Shawn could possibly be in some sort of danger and promptly entered panic mode. "Oh my god! Shawn's missing! We gotta call the police!" he rambled, panic taking control.

"Gus, I am the police!" Juliet responded trying to make him see reason and to calm down but she also knew from experience that he was just going to panic and worry more until he saw Shawn safe and sound. "Gus! Listen, I'm going to speak to Chief Vick about this ok? I'll let you know what she says." She reasoned but she knew that Gus was just responding through shock. She also knew that Gus was probably already reaching for his car keys.

"I'll be there in five. Less if you can tear up the speeding tickets." He replied sharply and then hung up. Juliet put the phone down and stood up, intending to visit the Chief. She'd had a meeting request from Karen earlier that morning anyway and she saw no reason why she couldn't kill two birds with one stone as it were. Henry stood when she did and moved to follow her. She allowed it and quickly ventured across the small distance to Karen's office door, giving it a sharp double tap before trying the handle and peeking inside. Karen was on the phone but she gestured for Juliet to come into the office, which meant she would be finished with her call soon. She lead Henry inside and closed the door, both took a seat to wait.

In the meantime, Juliet was mentally going through the last few cases she knew Shawn had worked on just in case there was something they had missed. Had anyone held a particularly nasty grudge against him? Were any of the cases personal? Did any of them turn personal? She could think of two in the last few months that might fit the bill. One had been a drug lord who Shawn had divined early on but had taken a little longer than usual to come up with any evidence to prove it. The Drug Lord, one Marcus Wainwright had been spitting feathers at the psychic due to the comedic way that Shawn had revealed the evidence. There were also some embarrassing personal details that Marcus had tried to conceal, but were revealed nonetheless. And in true Shawn fashion, the whole thing had gone down with a flamboyant flair, which favoured the psychic immeasurably.

She wouldn't put it past Wainwright to have contacts on the outside or to have planned something in retribution.

But then there was that creepy psycho killer that had almost killed Carlton. That case had become personal to the whole department and Shawn had felt unusually responsible for the hospitalisation of their Lead Detective.

The killer, James Harlow, had befriended Shawn a few weeks prior to the incident. James had done his research and had found out that Shawn was consulting on the case. He'd planned to keep up to date with the case through Shawn and had managed to avoid suspicion until Shawn had divined the truth. James had connected to Shawn through their friendship and for some reason, couldn't kill him out right. The reports said that Carlton had deduced the suspect due to a witness reporting James taking Shawn into a car that matched the descriptions of one that had been present at every crime scene. Carlton had tracked them down and in the struggle, had taken the bullet that had been aimed at Shawn. Shawn had then reacted by grabbing Carlton's gun and sharp shooting James in the leg. Non-fatal but James was not running away either.

The creepy factor was when James had told Shawn that they were brothers, and that one day there'll be a family reunion and he'd regret ever betraying his trust. What was it with her boyfriend attracting psycho criminals?

Juliet was already making a list of things she had to do to and found herself already treating the situation like a missing persons case.

"Yes certainly. Thank you sir. No that won't be necessary." Karen was finishing her call and Juliet was ready to cast the conversation aside but then the next sentence Chief Vick said piqued her interest. "I will find your daughter sir. I have my lead detective already on the case." Karen's voice had gone soft at this point and both Juliet and Henry had noticed the conversation. The chief was aware of it too. "Thank you. Bye bye." The new mother slowly put the phone down and turned to face the window behind her desk. She took a moment to compose herself. Neither Henry nor Juliet dared to break the silence.

"That was the Chief Commissioner for the department… My boss." She began, for some reason feeling the need to explain. "His daughter, Terrence Doherty is missing." She continued. "She's been missing for three days now." Juliet sat up straighter a little and she felt Henry do the same but then Karen spoke again, still not having turned around to face them. "She's only ten." Karen's voice was soft at this point and neither of her guests knew what to say. "I've got Carlton on the case but it's going too slowly. I need Shawn on this one." She said and turned to face them and say more but the looks on their faces made her hesitate. "What is it?" She asked, her stomach not liking the situation.

"My son is missing." Henry said succinctly. Karen gave him a look that said she didn't believe the level of severity that Henry had said the words with so Henry felt the need to explain further. "I know he's known for his disappearing acts, but not like this." He said, his tone bordering on worry the more he came to terms with the fact that someone may have hurt his son.

"I saw him off on his way to Mr Spencer's house. They were going on a camping trip but Shawn never turned up." Juliet explained, trying to keep her nerve under control. Karen sat down slowly in her chair processing the fact that her trump card and loosely termed friend was missing.

"I went ahead, thinking he'd gotten confused and thought we were to meet at the campsite. I waited until last night before coming back to give him a piece of my mind. I thought he'd stood me up or gotten distracted by something…" Henry elaborated, his mind already racing with what he had to do next. He certainly had to check the route the Shawn would've likely taken to get to his house and to the campsite. He would also need to screen any calls or letters from both his son's house and the Psyche office.

"Gus hasn't seen him since before he left home. He hasn't called anyone." Juliet added. "I'd like to check the visitor records of Marcus Wainwright and James Harlow. Those were the only two cases that might target him." Henry gave her a quick look, appreciating how she was thinking along the same lines as he was. Shawn's last few cases could be linked to his current missing status.

"That's all fine. But you'll have to work both cases. Terry is still missing, and on paper she's a priority over Shawn because she's a minor and has been missing for three days now…" Karen replied and went to continue but Henry interrupted her.

"So has Shawn and in my eyes, he's still a minor to me." The ex-detective was bordering frustration. This was the second time that Shawn had disappeared while working for the police. He sometimes despaired at his son's decisions in life but this one always gave him mixed reactions. On the one side, he was proud that his son was contributing to society by helping people, even if it was in true unorthodox Shawn fashion. But on the other side, he worried about the dangers this career would throw at the erratic man. And this was one of those dangers that he feared.

"I want Shawn back just as desperately as you do Mr Spencer!" Karen threw back sternly; her eyes giving him a no nonsense look. "He's dear to me as well, Henry." She added in a softer voice. she paused for a moment; taking a steadying breath. "Terry is only ten years old and she's recently been diagnosed with Autism. She's been recognised as a high-functioning sociopath too which means that she is highly intelligent but unable to cope with society well." Karen explained, hoping to earn some sympathy for the girl. "Human interaction and anything outside her routines and sense of familiarity will send her into a fit. She won't listen to reason and whoever has taken her will need to use force to keep her under control." The implications of how serious the case was, slowly started to hit the two guests in her office. "They may even decide she's too much of a risk to keep, and could very likely decided to kill her." Karen added with a tight throat. "I've known her since she was a baby. I held her in my arms as she slept, like I do to my own daughter every night. I can't imagine anything worse than knowing your daughter…" She paused and looked at Henry pointedly, "Or son, is in the hands of someone with the power to control their fate." She said before pausing for a moment to regain her composure.

It took a few moments before Juliet voiced her question. "Could it be possible that the same people have both Terry and Shawn?" She asked, her hypothesis growing stronger but with no evidence, she couldn't present it officially.

"What are you saying Detective?" Karen asked, seeing clearly that Juliet had thought of something. The Chief was willing to consider anything at this point.

"Well, there's a few cold cases of missing people in the archives that I had to file away a few days ago. The thing that stood out to me was that they were all diagnosed as high-functioning sociopaths." She stated. It had been her first hypothesis when she'd viewed the files all together and wouldn't have thought more on the case had Shawn not validated her theory by agreeing with her that it felt right. Apparently, something in the spirit realm was telling him that she was on the right track and she believed it. But without any evidence, she couldn't take the cases forward yet. "Terry is a high-functioning sociopath…" She began, and Henry finished her train of thought.

"And Shawn was recognised as one too, in school…" The ex-detective had cottoned on to the theory with a reluctant hesitancy. Karen's mind reeled with the possibility. This wasn't something she could ignore because if it were true then this case was bigger than it first seemed.

"Work the angle O'Hara, get me those files and set it up in the incident room. I'll get Lassiter back here and fill him in." Karen decided, then paused a second. "I take it Guster will be joining in on your efforts?" She asked, wanting to know who was working on what and why.

"He's on his way here now." Juliet confirmed as she stood up.

"Ok. I'll authorise the consultation request for Psyche. I'm clearly not going to be able to keep you out of the investigation Henry, so I'll put you down as a consulting body too." She said, "Don't, make me regret it." She added before picking up her phone again and dialling her lead detective's number.

Juliet and Henry left her to it and vacated the office in search of the files that Juliet had spoken about. If this angle panned out, Henry wasn't sure what the outcome would mean for his son. Why did someone want to kidnap sociopaths?

There were a number of reasons why someone would kidnap another human being:

Money was a big motivator. Usually the kidnappers would ransom off the victim to their worried loved ones. But Karen hadn't mentioned a ransom note for Terry and he certainly hadn't received one for Shawn. Sometimes though, the kidnappers would wait before sending one, to instil a sense of fear and panic. The relief of knowing their missing loved one was still alive would be enough to force them to panic and cooperate with the kidnappers demands. But why would money seeking kidnappers only kidnap sociopaths? It seemed too risky to try. The effort wouldn't be worth the results.

Personal vendettas were also another reason. If person A had angered or insulted person B; then person B might decide to take revenge by targeting Person A's loved ones. It wasn't as common as the money motivator but it wasn't uncommon either. But working from a sociopath point of view, that theory didn't quite pan out either. Unless someone had a personal vendetta against anyone considered a sociopath. It was unlikely but still worth looking in to. He'd have to start with reports and complaints against anyone considered a sociopath and look into who made those complaints. If there was a pattern he'd follow it.

Religion was another factor to consider. The strange cults that decided that those who didn't fit in were apparently possessed by devils or something similar. It differed how these cults would treat the situation. Some would try to purify the victim, some might indoctrinate them and other, more extreme cults might even feel the need to rid the world of the perceived abomination. He hated cult related cases for that reason. There were too many variations of outcomes. It all depended on how cuckoo crazy the instigators were.

It could even be a martyr, hoping to 'save' those he felt connected with. In this case, sociopaths. Maybe the person felt he was keeping them safe, away from the cruel harsh world.

Another reason for kidnapping and disappearances would be a slave trader, wanting to sell easy marks or a specific fetish one buyer might have. He couldn't imagine a slave trader trading in just sociopaths though. The string of missing people would be varied, not specifically sociopaths. And the only other missing people in the area were four others; one was well built man who most likely had skipped town on some kind of affair, two others were kids – brother and sister – who had left a runaway note and the last one was an Alzheimer's patient who most likely had just wandered off and gotten lost.

Either way he had to call Maddie and tell her that her son was missing… again. It was difficult enough to talk to her as it was, but this conversation was going to be even harder. No doubt, she would pin the blame on him being unsuitable to look after their boy. She was probably going to throw a lot of the psychological logic at him and then he'd be done for. If he wasn't careful she'd put him through one of her studies - that to him seemed purely unethical - as recompense…

His mind slowed down, latching onto another thought: 'Unethical studies…'

Wasn't there a big thing about an unethical plan to test a bunch of sociopaths back in the day? Henry slowly recalled the details. It had been a particularly big concern for him because at the time, the school had just tested Shawn for his high-functioning abilities and came back with a positive result. There had been an uproar at the university; Maddie had come home spitting feathers in sheer frustration before pulling a young nine year old Shawn into a tight hug. He couldn't remember much more of the incident because the board of ethics and thrown the experiment request out but he was sure Maddie would be able to recall every detail.

His enthusiasm dropped at the prospect of talking to his ex-wife but he knew he had to make the call. He excused himself from Juliet's side and stepped outside the station with his cell phone in hand. It was at that moment that Gus arrived, panic barely contained. Henry quietly nodded to the man he saw as his second son which calmed the young salesman a little.

"Mr Spencer?" Gus asked, knowing that Henry would know what he was asking.

"It's too early to tell Gus, Juliet's in the incident room. I've gotta make a call then I'll be in. She'll catch you up." Henry replied. Gust nodded and took off at a brisk walk into the building. Henry stared down at his phone and steeled himself.

"Oh Shawn… the shit you put me through sometimes…" He meant it both comically and seriously.

* * *

 **A/N:** _There we are then; Chapter One is done. Might be a long time for Chapter Two. Apologies now for the delay._


	3. Chapter 2 - Missing Persons

**Survival of the Smartest…**

* * *

 **Chapter Two:** _ **Missing Persons…**_

It was cold and cramped. Shawn didn't believe he'd ever been in a more shittier situation in all his life. And that included the last time he'd been kidnapped and he'd even been wounded that time!

This time was different. This time there were six concrete walls surrounding him with no give and no one to talk his way out of it with. There was no light to see any weakness or crevice and no sounds except for his own laboured breath. He'd tried pushing at the walls, scraping around the edges for a seam or crevice or anything to pick at or lever open. But he could find nothing that would give. They were there. He knew they were otherwise how else would he have gotten inside the damnable concrete coffin?

He huffed again and laid down, hugging himself for warmth. He was dressed in only a thin pair of boxer shorts and a summer vest top. His feet were bare. It made him wonder where in the world he was. If he was still in Santa Barbara it would be warm unless he was too far underground? He knew there was an old mining tunnel in the Ynez mountains but he thought they'd been sealed off. It was possible there was another entrance the city had missed. It was also possible that during his unconscious period, the insane doctor had transported him to some unknown place on the globe. For all he knew he'd been out for weeks and was currently in the north pole somewhere. He could just as easily be in the next town over but deep underground in some unknown factory, or in a large freezer inside a concrete box…

This wasn't helping his nerves at all. He had to get out of here. He kicked out at the walls again but just like the countless times before, they didn't budge. His hands felt the now familiar edges of his prison but again, just like every other time he checked, the place was sealed shut. Which also meant no fresh air. He probably had a few more hours at best before he ran out completely. He knew that if he wanted to preserve as much air as possible, he would have to calm down. A technique he'd read about suddenly sprang to mind. For once it wasn't something his father had taught him, he'd read it in a book he'd picked up from the waiting area in the dentist. It wasn't the usual reading material the receptionist would provide so he figured someone had probably left it there by accident. Nevertheless, it contained tips for how to survive cave-ins and wild terrains. Most of it he had already learned from his father, but there was a tip of how to preserve oxygen.

Sleep.

The body's functions slow right down while one was asleep, using up less energy and oxygen. Also, one couldn't panic while asleep so there would be no unnecessary energy usage either. His breathing would even out and slow down and his body would do the rest if the oxygen became too thin. He wouldn't feel the depravation or his body going into survival mode. He'd be saved from the stress of it all.

His father had scoffed at the idea at the time and asked him what would happen if someone were to walk past, calling out to him in order to rescue him? If he were asleep, he wouldn't hear them calling and therefore wouldn't be able to call back. However, in this situation, Shawn reckoned it was safe to assume that even if someone were to walk past right now calling his name, he wouldn't hear them through the concrete walls anyway. He didn't really have much to lose at this point.

Settling into as comfortable a position as he could find, Shawn tried to relax enough to fall asleep. It wasn't easy; thoughts of wondering whether he'd ever wake up again permeated his mind, making him uneasy about the prospect. He decided to lull himself to sleep with his fondest memories. If this really was his ticket to the afterlife, he wanted to go out with a smile.

He didn't have much in his life to smile about. He was a constant failure at everything he'd tried his hand at. Couldn't seem to accomplish much in any career he'd tried his hand at. He knew he had avoided the jobs he would be good at, just to spite his father. He regretted not going forward with a career in the police force, but not completely. The rules, legislation, paperwork… it wasn't something he felt he could abide by. All the procedures and ethics, policies and ass-kissing… it wasn't his style and even if he could bite his tongue, he wouldn't be happy doing it so he wouldn't put his best efforts in and he'd have failed that career too. He'd finally felt at home with Psyche. Sure, there was a slight deception in his ' _how_ ' but his results were impeccable. And all his cases were backed up with evidence that he had uncovered. There was no refuting or re-assessing any of the crimes he had solved, even if the truth were to come out about how he wasn't actually a psychic.

He wasn't comfortable deceiving Juliet though. She was genuinely amazed by his so called abilities that sometimes he felt guilty when she praised him for his ' _divinations_ '. She had always thought he was waving it off because he was ' _just-a-parrot-for-the-spirits_ ' who had done all the work but in truth, it just felt wrong to receive praise for being a good con-man. It felt cheap.

Her face came unbidden to his mind. Her sweet smile radiated colour and life and he felt himself relax at the image of her in his head. It was a pleasant image and he wouldn't mind it being the last thing he saw if he were to pass away in this godforsaken coffin of concrete.

"I'm sorry Jules…"

* * *

Detective Carlton Lassiter was beyond frustrated.

Not only was his high priority case going nowhere, but now his best means of solving the case was also missing. He might never believe that Shawn Spencer was psychic but he couldn't deny that the man closed cases like he'd never before seen. Not the he'd ever admit that out loud, mind you. In fact he'd rather out right argue that he thought the complete opposite. He had a title to defend and a reputation to keep after all.

But now, the man he was hoping to glean information from –hopefully without the other man knowing what he was doing– was missing and his hopes of solving the case had plummeted. Shawn had a knack for figuring things out despite what his "spirits" say, the man could derive a conclusion with the slightest hint of a clue and every damned time he got it right. Carlton had his moments of doubt over whether Shawn was really psychic or not, but it went against everything that helped him sleep at night, so for ninety-eight percent of the time he stubbornly kept that doubt locked away.

However, he could use that two percent right about now.

"Are we certain that Spencer is missing? And not just at some distant friend's place?" He asked as he sifted through the files Juliet had retrieved. He'd arrived back at the station half an hour after he received Chief Vick's call and they had been looking at the files for possible connections since then. He didn't doubt her competence but he had to be seen to be checking the facts before going forward.

"It's true that he has taken off in the past but never without telling someone. At the very least, Gus would have known if no one else did." Juliet replied, taking no offence to Carlton's questioning. She was aware of his processes. "He didn't show any signs of distress or any urges to take off. In fact we were both looking forward to our anniversary trip to France next week; it wouldn't make sense for him to take off now." She elaborated. It's true that in Shawn's case, his past itchy-feet syndrome was a heavy factor in postponing his case over Terry's but Juliet's gut said this was not a random runaway moment for Shawn. Something was telling her this was a kidnapping. "Henry and I also tracked the routes he would have taken to get to both possible destinations. There is no sign of any struggle or accident though. There's nothing to show he passed those ways but there's also nothing to say he didn't either. I've got tech running a registration plate recognition through the traffic cams to see if we can get a last known route available." She added with no hint of a doubt that they would find something there.

"Have you checked the hospitals? Could he be a John Doe in an accident or something?" Carlton asked nonchalantly as he flipped one case file onto the possible connection pile before picking up another one. Unaware of the reactions his comment received.

Juliet's face lost all colour as she imagined the scenario. Henry stiffened, wondering why he hadn't thought to check that first. And Gus's face dropped entirely, the thought of Shawn missing was enough to panic him, but if Shawn was actually hurt and in a hospital...

At the silence that responded to him, Carlton looked up in curiosity and was greeted with the sight of three very subdued faces. He quickly took it to mean that nobody had checked in with the hospitals yet. He didn't even need to give Juliet the order because she was already moving to investigate that angle.

Carlton studied the two remaining member of his current team. Gus was a mess but as usual, he was helpful with the administration and organisation of the files. In previous cases, his keen knowledge of biological and pharmaceutical areas had been a defining factor in solving some of the mysteries that surrounded some of the harder cases. The guy was a wimp when it came to physical exertion or harm, but Carlton had to admit, he had a grudging respect for the guy.

Henry however was a whole other ball-ache. His old habits as a detective made him a pain to manage when working with and he was even more unmanageable when his own son was in danger or was being an ass. Carlton was not looking forward to working with the guy again on, let alone on such a high profile case. The problem wasn't controlling the man; no, the problem was admitting that Henry Spencer knew what he was doing and had a better idea of where to start first and how to get results. It irked Carlton that the man was better than him at his own job but he locked his feelings away as tightly as he could and vowed to learn from the guy in hope of beating him at this game.

Carlton promptly felt guilty at his last thought. This wasn't a game. This was a real life crime with real people in danger. Shawn wasn't the most favoured person in his friends list, but Carlton bristled at the thought of anyone doing anything to his team. And yes, he begrudgingly considered Shawn Spencer a part of his team. But again, he'd never admit it out loud. The man was a child. But even children could be geniuses if motivated properly.

This was getting him nowhere. He sighed and scrubbed at his eyes, earning a look of curiosity from both Gus and Henry. It had been a long couple of days since Terry had first disappeared and with the size of this case getting bigger, he was loathe to admit that he was tired but he was.

"Go get some rest Carlton." Henry spoke up, returning his gaze to the file in his hand. "You're no good to us half asleep." He added, giving the detective a legitimate reason to dismiss himself for a quick nap. It was a testament to how tired Carlton actually was that he didn't immediately argue back but actually considered the option. But he couldn't do it. Not when one of his adhoc team members was possibly missing. Even if it was Shawn.

Who was he kidding? Somehow, Shawn had become that annoying best friend that he didn't want and it actually scared him knowing that he was missing. That someone had him somewhere and wasn't telling. Carlton quickly took control of his emotions and replaced the fear with frustration.

"No, I'm good." He replied, gruffly but in control. No one seemed to have noticed his internal meltdown so he carried on picking out the files that made a match and separating them from the ones that were too old or unrelated to their criteria. Truth be told, they weren't really sure what qualified as relative, so they'd split the files into two piles. Most likely connected, and least likely connected. They weren't ruling out the least likely, but they weren't prioritising them either. It wasn't time wasting, but it felt like it.

Of course, at this point Shawn would have argued that the answers were right in front of them and that his "spirits" had information they couldn't possibly know and somehow, in some way Shawn would be right and the evidence would all fall into place.

Carlton was jealous beyond measure but he respected the man-child for his ability to piece things together. Sure it might be the "spirits" diving the information, but Shawn used the information like a detective would and Carlton had witnessed the outcome over a hundred times already. Shawn was good.

But Shawn wasn't here right now, so Carlton had to step in and this time Shawn couldn't beat him to the finish line.

Because finding Shawn _was_ the finish line.

* * *

A loud, horrendous buzzing noise suddenly filled the small concrete coffin and Shawn was shocked awake. His survival instincts had him quickly covering his ears and moving into a crouched ready position. The noise was deafening and overloaded his previously silent senses, to the point where he thought he might actually go deaf.

It went on for what seemed like ages and he was just about to give up on the whole idea of surviving this hell when all of a sudden the floor beneath him started to vibrate. Something was happening. Shawn braced himself against the walls, wondering what it was that was coming his way. The noise continued to deafen him but he knew that he had to be prepared for a physical reaction. Something his Dad had instilled into him from an early age.

But nothing could really prepare him for what happened next. The floor beneath him _dropped_. And he fell with it. The concrete floor fell away and swung off to the side on an industrial sized set of hinges. The thing was a huge trapdoor that gave way so suddenly, that Shawn had no way to prevent himself from falling to the black abyss below him.

He fell.

He fell into the freezing cold, dark, unknown abyss.

He couldn't stop the shriek of fear that left his lips.

This was it.

He was going to die.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Dun, dun, duuuuun… ~Ok so this update came quicker than I anticipated. My muse kidnapped me – I understand how Shawn feels here – and wouldn't let me go 'til this little ditty was finished. Thinking of ideas for Chapter Three too now so watch this space!_


	4. Chapter 3 - Missing Inmates

**Survival of the Smartest…**

* * *

 **Chapter Three:** _ **Missing Inmates…**_

If it were a normal day, Henry Spencer would _not_ be typing in his ex-wife's mobile number in to his dialling pad for the second time that day. He would also _not_ be waiting impatiently for his ex-wife to pick up the phone with an unbridled anticipation either. However, his theory of the unethical experiment from years ago just wouldn't leave him. He had to know more about it and the outcome of the hearing. He knew Maddie would know exactly what he needed to know.

She answered on the third ring.

"Have they found him?" She asked breathlessly, her unasked question of 'alive?' was implied but Henry knew she just couldn't bring herself to ask it. Henry closed his eyes in silent suffering. It hurt to tell her that they hadn't found his missing son yet. Being the bearer of bad news had been a part of the job he'd hated when he had been a cop, and it had never been easy. It was even more difficult now, when it was his own son involved.

"No, not yet. But I have a theory." He replied, "Do you remember that psychological experiment that was thrown out years ago?" He asked, cutting straight to the point.

"You'll have to be more specific, there were hundreds thrown out every week." Maddie huffed impatiently, probably wondering why this train of questioning was important to finding their son. Henry could distinctly make out the sound of a door opening and then the sound of Boston's rush-hour traffic hissing in the background. Maddie was on the move, no doubt hailing a taxi to take her to the airport.

"You remember the one about Sociopaths?" He asked, pressing the phone closer to his ear to be able to hear her response over the noise of the traffic. The click-clack of her heels suddenly stopped and her breathing hitched.

"That one?" She asked hesitantly. It was unclear to Henry as to why Maddie was suddenly very afraid of where the conversation was headed. Sure, it was natural to be afraid that some psycho doctor might have your son in some bizarre experiment however it wasn't even a validated theory yet. It was just a possibility. But Maddie's panic was a little _more_. His cop senses were tingling and he wasn't sure he wanted to know why.

"Yes. That one." He replied, unsure he wanted to continue the conversation but he knew he had to get to the bottom of this. Stopping was not an option. Not when his boy was in trouble. The kind Shawn hadn't instigated of his own accord that is.

"Yes, I remember it." Maddie began shakily, "It was unanimously voted as unethical and we vetoed the idea on the spot. Why, is this important?" She asked and he could hear the dread in her voice. He knew that she had just pieced together Henry's theory. "You think he was taken by Dr. Herbert?!" She asked, her voice rising a little in her panic.

Henry sighed to himself but she heard it all the same. "I don't think so. If I remember correctly, he was locked up for stealing large mechanical machinery back in the nineties." Henry replied, recalling the name now with more confidence. Yes, Dr. Richard Herbert had been caught with several tonnes of machinery from some power plant in the south. They'd also found large quantities of anaesthetics on his person and in his home. The fact that his practicing license had been revoked due to other unethical experiments he'd gone ahead with, despite the authorisations being vetoed, had led the court to believe he'd been about to embark on yet another illegal experiment and had incarcerated him on the spot. The jury voted guilty and the guy had been locked up ever since. "It could be a fanatic or copycat." He continued but Maddie cut him short.

"Henry he's out. He escaped a few weeks back." Henry's heart stopped. At least that's what it felt like. The unstable doctor was out and free. And Shawn was missing. "I had the call this morning. I was on the committee that vetoed his experiment." Maddie's voice was growing increasingly hysterical and Henry could do nothing from his position. "I was on the list of possible targets… Henry he has my baby…" Her voice broke off in both horror and fear. He could hear her sobbing but could do nothing to soothe the woman.

"I'll find him, Maddie." Henry promised, his voice broke but he meant what he said. "I'll find him and I'll bring him home safe and sound. I promise you." He assured. This was not going to be how the Spencer line died out.

Not like this.

Not with his son.

* * *

"Dr. Richard Herbert. Escaped from Detroit Heights Prison three weeks ago. He's the guy who wanted to experiment on Sociopaths." Henry reported as he threw the file down onto the table in the incident room. He had retrieved the file from the receptionist who owed him a favour and knew he was on the case. "He's the one who's got my son and all the other people." He declared with a clear certainty.

Carlton took a moment to assess the man before picking up the file. It certainly fit the profile and motive. It also fit the means. There was no evidence but the coincidence alone would be enough to warrant investigating the angle. He passed the file over to Juliet who read it over quickly then moved to her laptop to start searching for more information.

"What made you so sure?" Carlton asked Henry, positive that the man was clutching at straws. Henry gave him a withering look.

"Maddie was on the committee that denied his experiment. He wanted Shawn from the moment Maddie voted no to his experiment with the others. If I remember correctly, James Doherty your current Chief Commissioner was also on the team that voted no. Herbert was obsessed with that insane experiment of his and the damn thing targets all our missing people: Sociopaths." Henry listed sternly. "The guy escaped a few weeks ago. Maddie got a call this morning, warning her that she might be on his target list. She's had a security detail on her since then. She was going to call us this afternoon to warn us. Little good it would have done us, as Shawn's been missing for three days already." He finished, surprising Carlton with a plausible list of reasoning's that were actually very viable to follow up on.

"Do we have any possible locations this Herbert character would go to?" He asked his partner. She sat furiously typing away for a few more seconds before turning the laptop screen his way.

"Last known residence was sold; we can send dispatch to inspect. We'll do the same for place of employment. No living relatives and his parents' house was demolished in the eighties due to structural damage. Termites." Juliet reeled off.

"Ok, let's get the ball rolling. See what we can find. I'll get Buzz and the rest of the department onto these locations. O'Hara, keep digging, see what else you can find. Keep me informed." Carlton ordered and headed out the door. Henry gave Juliet a quick but meaningful stare that said, keep him in the loop too before he followed Carlton out the door.

"Do you think he'll be ok?" Gus asked quietly. He had stayed quiet the entire time, purely because his concern for his friend had overridden any other ability to function. Juliet looked up at him, having almost forgotten he was in the room. She gave him a long glance.

"I don't know." She replied honestly before turning back to her screen. What she found on her search page almost shocked her. The list of experiments that had been thrown out by the ethics committee was extensive but over half of them were requested by Dr. Richard Herbert. Some of the experiments were heartless and cruel and didn't really serve any purpose. The rest could provide some intel but the cost wasn't worth the pain and suffering it would entail.

She finally found the files for the Sociopath experiment that Henry had spoken about. She braced herself then clicked open the file.

* * *

 **Title:**

 _Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD) and their differences to the average human psyche in life or death scenarios._

 **Summary:** _An experiment to discern whether High Functioning Antisocial Personality Disorder patients (HF-ASPDs) have the ability and opportunity to conquer fear and produce a new breed of intellectual reasoning in the face of dangerous scenarios that would otherwise incapacitate the normal human psyche. The aim is to compare the two thought processes to discern which would be more effective in a dangerous profession._

 **Important Background Information:** _ASPD is referred to as psychopathy or sociopathy in popular culture. It is one of the most alarming personality disorders because it might lead to crime if it isn't properly diagnosed and treated. The onset of ASPD could be traced back to early adulthood or adolescences. ASPD can consist of a majority of the following symptoms. It is important to note that not all symptoms may be present in a patient with ASPD._

 **Symptoms:**

 _Failure to conform to societal norms_

 _Use of fake aliases_

 _Recklessness_

 _Disregard for others' feelings and safety_

 _Irresponsibility_

 _Disregard for right and wrong_

 _Persistent lying or deceit to exploit others_

 _Using charm or wit to manipulate others for personal gain or for sheer personal pleasure_

 _Intense egocentrism, sense of superiority and exhibitionism_

 _Recurring difficulties with the law_

 _Repeatedly violating the rights of others via intimidation, dishonesty and misrepresentation_

 _Child abuse or neglect_

 _Hostility, significant irritability, agitation, impulsiveness, aggression or violence_

 _Lack of empathy for others and lack of remorse about harming others_

 _Unnecessary risk-taking or dangerous behaviours_

 _Poor or abusive relationships_

 _Irresponsible work behaviour_

 _Failure to learn from the negative consequences of behaviour_

 **Theory:** _ASPD sufferers are often perceived as aggressive or rude and are a non-conformity that stands outside current society. They are often seen as a mental impairment and can be detrimental to the flow of our current society._

 _But does that make them the deformity? Could it not be that the current Society is what needs to adapt to accommodate the perceived abnormality?_

 _What if ASPD, is actually an evolution of the human mind that sets the stepping stones for the future of our kind?_

 _The socially accepted human psyche is flawed with mostly inhibited natural animal instincts that become uncontrollably uninhibited when faced with a threatening situation. The HF-ASPD appears to not have this impediment. There is no fear of repercussions and in the absence of fear, one is able to think clearly and logically and can analyse the situation methodically. The outcome would be exactly as the HF-ASPD fully intended it to be. Imagine using that ability in a dangerous scenario; perhaps in police work or firefighting. One could manipulate a bad situation into a positive outcome._

 _In a life or death situation, one can predict that the average human would revert to survival of the fittest. Fear for their life will promote aggression, lack of clear judgement, and an unprecedented need to survive by any means. The results for the HF-ASPD is mostly unpredictable. In recent news, there have been reports of HF-ASPDs who, in the face of certain death or injury, have ignored all animalistic behavioural patterns of self-preservation and have endured the pain or risk for one cause or another, usually a selfish reason that would only benefit the person in question. In these instances however, HF-ASPD has provided results and has achieved that which they set out to do._

 _This experiment will put two classes of psyche; HF-ASPDs and the average human psyche in to life or death scenarios that will threaten their survival. This is required because if the threat is not real, the measurement of fear is void. The results will always be inconclusive. The experiment is designed to record and measure the reactions of both HF-ASPDs and average psyches and compare the productivity of the two…_

* * *

Juliet read on with a growing sense of dread filling her stomach. She could understand how Shawn was diagnosed as a high functioning sociopath; some of his questionable behaviour now made sense to her, even if he only had the symptoms in a mild sense of the term. But what scared her, was that this Dr. Herbert actually believed that the cost of inducing unparalleled fear into several people was worth the trauma for the results. Results that benefitted no one and just answered a question he was curious about. Even she could see that the reasons he gave were a cop-out answer; police work, fire-fighters... These people were trained to overcome their fear. Also, it's the very same fear that stops them from pulling the trigger too soon on a confused teen or prevents them from sacrificing a hostage for the sake of taking down the criminal.

If this guy was really their kidnapper, there'd be no ransom notes, no trail to follow and no time to waste. Shawn was a resourceful man, strong-willed and stubborn, but even _she_ couldn't see him surviving something like this. Extra senses or not.

She stood up quickly and rushed out of the incident room. Gus followed on her heels. She had to find Carlton. He had to know what they were dealing with.

* * *

His head hurt.

Something was digging into the small of his back too.

Shawn woke up in a small amount of pain but was more concerned about the confusion that he was not in his bed. He had woken up with hangovers that were far worse than his current headache and it wasn't uncommon for him to have fallen off the bed in the night or to have not even made it up the stairs in his drunken stupor.

What did confuse him was the cold surface he was laid on and the sounds of hissing and low rumblings of machinery as if being heard from a distance.

He slowly opened his eyes and found to his horror and dismay that the nightmare he'd been having wasn't really a nightmare of the dreaming kind, but rather a nightmare of the "oh-shit-I'm-in-real-danger-and-really-wish-this-was-a-dream" kind. He quickly assessed himself before deciding to move. All fingers and toes wiggled painlessly and effortlessly. Legs were working. Arms moved just as he wanted them too. The only thing that bothered him was the small of his back where he'd clearly landed on something and his head where he assumed he'd managed to bump it against something on his downward journey into the pits of an industrial-hell that had possibly frozen over. Did he mention he was cold? He was cold, very cold.

Carefully, he sat up and reached behind him to remove the hard offending object that had planted itself into his back when he'd landed. It was an old boot; steel toecaps, dusty and rotten. He threw it away from him in disgust and then proceeded to examine his surroundings. He was seated in a hallway, long corridors faded to darkness in front of him and behind him. Long red painted pipes lined the walls and ceilings, carrying who knew what to who knew where. One pipe further down was hissing slightly with a trail of steam rising to the ceiling. The lighting flickered and jumped in the bulbs giving the place an overall creepy factor of a hundred on a scale of one through ten.

He looked up, wondering how far he'd fallen but only found a ceiling above him. This both confused and scared him. He distinctly remembered falling from his concrete coffin so why could he not see the opening? He stood up then, heart racing a little, and reached up to touch the ceiling above him. It was solid. But then so was the floor of his concrete cell. 'It could be a trick of the light.' he supposed. There could be a seam that he just couldn't see right now.

He decided that this line of thought wasn't really helping his current predicament. Clearly, he wasn't free of this man's clutches yet. One doesn't just kidnap people, lock them in a cement cell and then accidentally free them. Shawn discerned that this was the beginning of the experiment the insane doctor had explained to him before he'd woken up in the cement box. Which meant that there were other people down here too, fighting for their freedom. If he came across anyone, it was likely that they might attack him to kill off the competition.

Would he have to do the same? What would he do if he was attacked? Kill them?

He knew he could do it. He'd been trained because his father had been worried he'd never grow out of his awkward, uncoordinated phase as a young teen. He'd also secretly taken judo lessons through his mother, who caved when Henry asked them where they kept going every Sunday. The lessons had continued but Henry had decided to learn too. Shawn had had to share classes with his father which would have been quite the embarrassment had Shawn not decided to keep it secret from everyone outside his family. Gus included. It was for this reason he had played such a bad karate student in the case of the Triad kidnapping. His father knew what he had been doing and although he hadn't agreed with Shawn's aversion of the truth and his rather flamboyant dramatics to prove otherwise, he also knew that Shawn had his reasons for keeping his talents hidden.

Shawn did not want the world to know he knew self-defence. One would not just openly advertise to a would-be attacker that they knew how to fight if one was trying to lure said attacker into a false sense of security. Luckily, Shawn had never had to use his defence skills in front of anyone from SBPD. Either by luck or a twist of fate, something had always occurred to intervene the need to use it. It was ironic really; his life could be a crime-solving comedy had he actually thought about filming it.

Had the situation not been so severe or panic-inducing, Shawn night have actually paused to consider that avenue.

However, he was currently preoccupied with the concept of getting out of this experiment alive and with a clean conscience. However impossible that seemed. He took a deep breath and sighed to himself. One or another he had to start moving. He wasn't safe out in the open like this and standing there like an idiot wasn't getting him any closer to the exit or a similar solution. He started forward in what he hoped was a progressive direction.

One way or another, he knew this experiment was going to change him. He was dreading the experiences that would bring about this change.

* * *

Karen sat at her desk in silence. The pile of paperwork in front of her wasn't going to sign itself off but she just couldn't motivate herself to do them. This case, the biggest case SBPD had ever had, was circling her mind like a vulture circling its prey. She couldn't get it out of her head.

Not only was the daughter of her boss involved, but so was one of her own team. A team she openly favoured. Shawn had become an integral part of her team. She may not completely believe he was psychic, even if his father vouched for him. But she couldn't deny the fact that he closed cases and in a way that even if he was outed as a fake, the evidence he divined was still enough to keep the criminals he'd helped incarcerate, behind their respective bars.

She didn't know how he did it but she appreciated his efforts more than she really let on. He did need to grow up though. The childish act was unnerving and annoying at best.

But she'd give anything to see that childish grin in her office right now.

However, Shawn wasn't the only thing on her mind regarding this whole case. Terrence Doherty was a minor and a dear friend. The girl's mother had passed away when she was young. Karen had been told by James Doherty that Terry had looked up to her as a substitute mother figure. Karen wasn't quite sure how to react to that but she'd taken it in stride nonetheless.

That had been almost seven years ago, around the same time Terry had been diagnosed as a High Functioning sociopath and misdiagnosed as having Asperger's syndrome. And was also when she had her first epileptic seizure. Usually she was ok. Her epilepsy was mild and rarely occurred. The only time it flared up was when she was stressed or frustrated.

Karen could easily see this situation as being extremely stressful and scary for her so no doubt the epileptic seizures would be occurring. This worried her, because a seizing patient can't control their body during a seizure and any number of injuries could ail the girl during a seizure. She could repeatedly knock her head against a hard surface, or shudder over a sharp protrusion, repeatedly cutting open her skin. She could accidentally bite her own tongue and drown or choke herself.

All these thoughts weren't helping. She took a deep breath and allowed it to slowly leave her lungs in a controlled sigh. She had a meeting with Carlton and his team in a few minutes so she had to regain her composure and wits before then.

This was definitely the most trying case she'd been involved with yet.

And she hoped it was the quickest and most successful one too.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Well, I don't quite know what to say. My muse for this one has kicked off big time. I have the rest of the story loosely mapped out; I just need to actually write the chapters. If all goes to plan there will be the prologue, ten chapters and an epilogue. So only chapters four through ten and the epilogue to go. My motivation to write is sporadic but with your support, I'm sure I can knock these out as regularly as possible._

* * *

 **Edit:** _My apologies for using the term "Fit" instead of "seizure" for those who might get offended. I recently re-read my source of information and it noted how the term "Fit" can be perceived as insulting. For reference, here is the link to the site I used as a source of information: (remove spaces)_

 _www. brainandspine. org. uk/ epilepsy_

 _If anyone has any questions or concerns regarding any of the disorders or symptoms I have listed in my story, please contact your GP. There's no shame in asking them questions. I'm not qualified to help, I just researched and parroted facts. I'll lend you a listening ear if you really need me to, but I can't advise what you need to do other than to speak to someone who knows what they're doing._


	5. Chapter 5 - Missing Opportunities

**Survival of the Smartest…**

* * *

 **Chapter Four:** _ **Missing Opportunities…**_

Carlton was not normally one to stress or worry. True, if something affecting his career was intervening or hindering his progress, he'd aggressively defend his title and possible retaliate, but he'd never worry because he was sure he'd come out on top. Coincidently his cases were never a concern either due to his profound skills as a detective. Sure there'd been one or two cases which could have ended on a more positive note but Carlton couldn't allow that to affect him – _otherwise his penchant for closing cases would be compromised by the depression that would take over_.

That's not to say he didn't take his job seriously. The people he protected were his priority and it had come to a very close call a few times where he'd had to risk his career for the sake of protecting the innocent. The red tape that tied their hands was sometimes unrelenting and although he'd gotten this far, he wasn't sure that the next time he had to face it that he'd get away unscathed.

It was for this fact alone that he envied Shawn. Shawn, as a contracted agent, wasn't subjected to the rigorous demands and policies of the Santa Barbara Police Department. Most of that might be because the man chose not to employ the use of a firearm. Another fact which flummoxed the head detective. If Shawn chose to take his job seriously, and applied for the right to carry and use a firearm, Carlton imagined the red tape might possibly hinder the "psychic" too. Perhaps that was why he chose not to use them? It certainly wasn't because he couldn't. Carlton had witnessed first-hand the sharpshooting, pinpoint accuracy that the man was skilled with. Carlton was hard pressed to admit that Shawn could probably outshoot him in a competition. Which led him to believe that Shawn was hiding other skills too.

And his suspicions were further confirmed with the DET exams. Shawn had managed to score a 100% at only 15 years old where Carlton had only managed a 97.2%* at the start of his career. The information had ended his competitive streak with Juliet who'd scored a 98.4%* but his suspicions had piqued. He was even more convinced that Shawn was not psychic, just a genius hiding behind a mask. Not that you'd ever catch him admitting that.

However, it was for this reason that when Shawn's disappearance was suddenly connected to the Sociopathic case, Carlton found himself not completely surprised by the revelation. Carlton was familiar with the symptoms for ASPD, he'd been tested himself by his parents at various stages of his life and although he didn't have the personality disorder, he was very familiar with the behavioural patterns and quirks.

Shawn seemed to have a mild case of the disorder at his best guess. He'd suspected as much when he first met the guy which was why he'd slowly developed a patience for the man's antics. The "psychic" wasn't completely un-empathic, he seemed to genuinely care when the situation called for it. He wasn't completely full of himself either, Carlton had witnessed moments where Shawn had seemed troubled by the prospect of being wrong but instead of reacting with a temper or forcing the situation to fold to his will like most sociopaths do, he witnessed Shawn brush it off – _with a fair amount of difficulty mind you_ – and move on to solve the puzzle.

Also, most Sociopaths can't seem to function without a **high opinion of themselves** , but although Shawn gloated his successes, Shawn also admitted his weaknesses. He claimed he wasn't athletically fit and he wasn't strong or as physically able as some of the men he knew – _though considering Shawn's previous hidden truths regarding the sharpshooting and his DET results, and various exercises where he'd caught Shawn running for his life, Carlton was hard pressed to believe this statement too_. In situations where he needed help of those natures, he'd always called for help – _true it was usually an afterthought but at least he called_. A true sociopath would have never admitted defeat and would have soldiered on to the point of **arrogant dismissal of the dangerous consequences**. However, Carlton was convinced this was a deflecting ploy to avoid being noticed for any other skills that Shawn could be hiding. Juliet had called him paranoid after he'd shared his thoughts and told him to grow up but Carlton just couldn't seem to let it go.

However, Shawn did fit the rest of the profile in a mild sense. He was **reckless** though never enough to really put himself in actual danger – _if it got to that point, it was usually just bad luck on his part_. He was **irresponsible** and always tried to worm his way out of doing the necessary procedures. He used **fake names** constantly, **challenged authority** at every turn he could and **challenged social norms** too. He had **no respect for the right way of doing things** and instead often broke into homes and crime scenes to get his "vibes" as he called them. He **lied** often to get what he wanted but he always did it blatantly so that it was obviously a lie. He had past **difficulties with the law** , took **unnecessary risks** and constantly risked Gus' career, integrity and comfort zones too, and **failed to learn from the consequences** of his actions.

A more serious symptom was **child abuse/neglect**. Carlton couldn't honestly say he had any evidence on this one. He hadn't ever witnessed Shawn around kids but had reason to believe the man wouldn't hurt a fly if he could help it. However, if Shawn had been neglected as a child it could explain a few things. But Shawn gave no indication that he'd ever suffered too greatly at the hands of his parents – _no more than the average disciplining that was legal at the time of his childhood at any rate_. Sure there were exaggerated childish responses but Carlton could see them for what they were.

Another symptom was **poor relationships** and although Shawn was ever the friendly guy, Carlton knew that he'd had a rocky relationship with his father in the past and still had moments at present. And Carlton knew first-hand the **charm and wit** that Shawn would employ and was also acquainted with the more **hostile and aggressive** side of Shawn from when he'd first brought him into the station to inquire about the stereo shop thefts. Shawn hadn't been jovial or pretending when he'd retaliated to Carlton's prodding questions then. His wit had been sharp and antagonistic. His words had razor sharp edges and had stung greatly and Carlton could tell that he had been holding back too. Though to be fair, Carlton had only ever seen that side of him a total of three times, once in the interrogation room and twice with the Yin-Yang cases. The last two were excusable considering the pressure the man had been under at the time, however, it was a chilling thing to see. A normally friendly and harmless personality turning into a deadly focussed and intelligent intent was something Carlton still couldn't prepare himself for. It had been one of the few times he'd been concerned.

There were only two previous moments where he remembered feeling that annoying niggling feeling called concern. The first one had been when Shawn had been kidnapped by a pair of mechanics intent on stealing from armoured vehicles. The not so cryptic message "binshot" Shawn had managed to send to Gus, coupled with the red substance he'd found at the crime scene had made it glaringly obvious that the man had been in medical trouble on top of the obvious. Reluctantly, Carlton had been forced to admit to himself that day that Shawn – _and by proxy, Gus too_ – had become important to him. Not quite _best-friend_ level, but not just _annoying pains-in-the-asses_ either. He felt a certain responsibility toward them, as though they were his annoying kid brothers and unfortunately he had to watch out for them.

Carlton knew how bad a GSW (gunshot wound) could end up. The fact that they had no idea how bad it was, meant that they had to assume the worst case scenario. What had added insult to injury, was that it had been Carlton himself who had fobbed the case over to the Psych agency. His arrogance had almost cost him a friend _– however loosely he used the term_. Though, working with Henry Spencer – _a trying time Carlton would rather forget_ – the two had solved the mysteries involved and found Shawn, a bit battered and in pain but alive and full of his usual sass no less. Coincidentally that had also been the time he'd witnessed Shawn's sharpshooting skills in action.

The second time he'd been concerned was when Mr Yin presented himself onto the scene. Mr Yang had been bad enough but Carlton hadn't quite accepted Shawn enough at this point to warrant worrying over the man's stability and well-being. Mr Yin however was an entirely different story. Juliet had gone missing that time and while he harboured no romantic feelings toward his partner, Carlton still felt his protective streak run wild at the thought of losing her to the hazards of the job and he also wanted to protect Shawn a little too. He'd seen how the events had affected the young psychic – _he still didn't believe Shawn was psychic but could think of no other term that wasn't hostile_ – and could only watch as the man was pulled from one crime scene to another and taxed to mental and physical exhaustion.

He did not envy Shawn in that moment. The difficulty of having to make such a decision all while unravelling cryptic clues that had quite frankly had Carlton stumped from the word "Go", and all while trying to throw off an air of uncaring to try and trap the instigator behind it all was by far the most horrible of situations he could imagine. Carlton had been concerned for Juliet's safety and had also been concerned that the serial killer had targeted Shawn – _a civilian no less_ – which had thrown the whole pattern of the Yin-Yang Serial Killers profiles off completely. Everything they'd known about that case had been turned on its head. He could only imagine the mental exhaustion and stress Shawn had been under in those moments, it was terrifying just watching from the side-lines.

That incident had been another notch in his belt to add to the reasons why he didn't think Shawn was a psychic. The stress had forced Shawn to think quickly and there were quirks that were unconsciously omitted in his little acts of "psychic-ness" that proved to Carlton that the man was - _most of the time_ \- being overdramatic. Carlton hadn't missed a single tell – _or lack thereof_ – but Shawn was too good to leave any actual hard evidence.

However, if he couldn't find Shawn in this new case, none of that would matter much.

He pushed the annoying feeling of concern away and focussed on his job. Currently he was on his way to visit the crazy doctor's assistant from before the guy fixated on sociopaths. Her name was Dr. Amanda Sadlington and was currently a counsellor at a reputable psychotherapy firm in downtown Santa Barbara. Her name had shown up in his perusal of Dr. Herbert's file. She'd been cleared of any implications to the illegal experiments, due to her resignation after his tantrum over the revocation of his license which occurred before he was arrested. She'd decided that enough was enough and she resigned from his employ and moved on to therapy work. She apparently finished her degree under a Dr. Thomas Edington who then referred her to the firm she was working with now. Her case studies were average for her field and she held no other incriminating history other than her work association with Dr. Herbert. Carlton had a feeling she was still regretting ever having accepted the position as his assistant.

He'd called ahead just before he left the department and asked the male receptionist who answered to clear a spot in her diary for his meeting with her, reciting his badge number and that it was official police business. The traffic was normal for lunchtime on a Monday, if a little heavy on South Street but he suspected that was due to the roadworks going on in that area.

He was halfway past the junction when his phone began buzzing. His built in Bluetooth device kicked in and the ringing tone sounded through his radio speakers instead. It was new car, four by four, royal blue with all the mod cons. His last car had been totalled but the insurance had paid out big thus enabling him to purchase this beauty – _under the condition that he try harder to keep it safe and road worthy_. He was quite proud of it actually. Not quite as proud as he was of his Ford Fusion though. Ironically, it had been trashed thanks to the efforts of the person he was currently trying to recover but in all fairness, Shawn hadn't been completely at fault for that one. Carlton was sure that even Shawn couldn't plan to be chased across the highway on his motorcycle and then have his rear tyre shot out just at the right moment when Carlton had been driving the opposite way to investigate the disturbance, thus leading Shawn's bike to lose control and crash right into Carlton's new car. Carlton's written recorded judgement of the use of firearms in retaliation may not have been very accurate. The excessive use of ammo however wasn't overlooked by the Chief who recognised the stroke of bad luck and frustration for what it was but still had to reprimand her employee for policy and protocol sake. He hit the ' _Answer_ ' button built into his radio, grinning to himself despite the situation.

"Lassiter." He answered, knowing that whoever had his number would know who he was anyway so he didn't bother with any fluffy niceties.

"Carlton it's Juliet, I've got some background information on our suspect." Juliet's voice replied. Carlton knew why she didn't go straight into detail. He could have someone in the car, or he might not be in a good position to hear her so she waited for him to give her the go ahead.

"All clear O'Hara, fill me in." He replied as he turned east on the junction and the powered up onto the freeway.

"He is one sick SOB sir, his obsession with Sociopaths is beyond that of a healthy person. I think he might be mentally ill. If we agitate him sir… the consequences for his victims could be dire." Juliet reported with a note of trepidation in her voice. One of the victims was her boyfriend and the thought of him coming to any harm scared her. Carlton mentally commended her for keeping her cool up 'til now. "His brief for the experiment in question," Juliet continued, "states that for his experiment he intended to use; ' _two classes of psyche; High Functioning Anti-Social Psychopathic Disorder patients and the average human psyche._ ' He plans to put them both; ' _in life or death scenarios that will threaten their survival.'_ He's using them as lab rats. He's not just kidnapped Sociopaths. He's got other people too to use as a comparison. Our victim base just got bigger." Juliet reeled off. Carlton swore softly to himself. This didn't really change their attack plan though so it was a minor setback. He could roundup some administration workers to go through the list of victims while he continued his plan of action. The victims were the priority here but finding them came first and he had to know where to look. To do that he had to get more information on the suspect and his current lead is Dr Sadlington.

"Ok O'Hara listen carefully, this is what I want you to do;" He began, "Get me a working list of potential victims on the go. Ask Jason and Kim in admin to go through our current list of sociopath victims and create a timeline from the first disappearance that was likely to be involved in this case to the latest and then cross check that time line with the other missing persons who are likely to be involved. Don't ask me how you'll parameter the second list, figure something out." He took a breath before continuing. "Meanwhile I want you to look further into the incident that got Herbert incarcerated. Look for any clues or patterns that might lead us to where he might be now. Get me a list of possible locations to investigate. Report back in an hour." He reeled off, his detective mind shifting up a gear at the escalation of pressure. He hoped to all things holy that the doctor hadn't finished collecting his samples before he started his experiment.

"Yes sir. O'Hara out." Juliet replied and she hung up the phone. Carlton drove along in silence for the next ten minutes, his mind a whir of activity. No doubt Juliet was informing Henry of her latest update too. He trusted Henry to do anything and everything if it was his son in trouble. So he trusted the fact that Henry would bail on the 'previous employment' investigation he'd sent him and McNab on and go straight to his own sources. He hated when his team went rogue but he had to admit that Henry had a way of getting information. It was standard protocol to have a civilian – _even if he was an ex detective_ – stationed with a police officer while helping with an investigation. Shawn had disregarded that protocol too many times to count and the paperwork alone would deforest this side of America. He could understand why Chief Vick wrote in a clause on their agreement contract to authorise minor solo sleuthing on their behalf. However, Henry wasn't employed by Psych so wasn't under the same freedom. The argument that would follow though wasn't worth the fight to follow protocol and if memory served him right, Henry had found a lot of convenient loopholes when Shawn had been kidnapped the first time, so he was sure that Henry would loophole himself out of trouble again this time.

Carlton wasn't worried about that. He was, however, concerned about what the older Spencer would find and what he'd do with that information. So far he'd been in a sharing mood but Carlton could tell that at some point, when it seemed like the case was standing stagnant, Henry might just go off and do his own thing without the help of SBPD's finest. In that case, Carlton feared that _worry_ would not be a strong enough word to encompass the dread of the repercussions that could entail. For him and for everyone else involved.

He pulled up to the psychotherapy firm four minutes later with a sigh. There wasn't much he could do at this stage so he put it to the back of his mind and took in the small squat buildings. It looked like a retirement home at first glance. Carlton parked near the middle of the carpark where there were only three spaces available and then exited the car.

He took a moment to admire the shiny newness of the vehicle and felt his proud grin return.

He held out the keys to the car and with a serene smile blipped the central locking system to lock the car. At that moment two things happened. First, the sound of his car alarm and locking system echoed across the car park, he sharp chirping sound significant in the quiet area. Then, at that very same moment, the building he had been admiring before he stepped out of his brand new car suddenly exploded in a huge buffeting roar of fire and debris. Carlton was thrown backwards, away from the explosion and landed on his back, scraping his shoulder and upper back on the asphalt and leaving him with a mild case of road rash. The concussive moment took him several minutes to first; comprehend what had happened and then; a further few more minutes to get up despite his injuries and actually see what had happened.

There was no roof left, the front of the building was strewn across the car park and there was a raging inferno inside of what was still standing. Nothing inside the building could have survived that blast. Quick as he could, he moved to his car to radio in for emergency services. So focussed on the emergency was he, that he didn't notice the large concrete beam that had landed on his bonnet and the bonnet of the car next to him until after he'd hung up to the emergency services.

His face dropped. His second brand new car was also now a lump of scrap metal indirectly caused by Shawn Spencer.

Carlton promptly lost the will the live.

* * *

Shawn's ears were burning. Someone was clearly talking about him and he hoped so because that meant that they'd finally figured out he was missing. Though how much faith he put in the SBPD actually finding him was a little diluted. However, once Henry Spencer found out that he hadn't been ditched by his son on their camping trip, Shawn had no problems believing that his father would be on the trail and possibly be the one to rescue him. He hadn't ever really said it, but Henry was Shawn's favourite superhero. Who else would think to use their endless horrifying experiences on the police force to teach and prepare his kid to survive those very same scenarios? Henry had saved his son countless times before this through the lessons he'd taught his son as a kid.

Shawn decided that if he survived this ordeal, he'd tell his father of his feelings in that respect. However, that surviving thing he was talking about just now, Shawn wasn't very sure if it was going to happen. For three days, Shawn had been cut off from the world. Two of which were spent in a concrete coffin with no food or water and Shawn was both very hungry and very thirsty right now. Anything drinkable or edible would do.

He stumbled along down a narrow passage way blindly, hoping to come across some exit or store room where the workers of this old factory might have used it as a lunch room. Mmm. Lunch sounded really good…

 _Focus Shawn!_

Odd, that sounded like his dad's voice. Crap. He couldn't even escape the condescending tone of his father even when kidnapped. Wait. Wasn't he all 'pro-dad' just now?

Shawn paused in his ambling and shook his head. Something wasn't right. His thoughts were jumbling around and that scared him. He was always a sharp and clear thinker. It's how he worked. Something was messing with his brain.

His stomach growled painfully and he clutched his abdomen. It was logical to think that the lack of food and water was affecting him mentally as well as physically but Shawn was absolutely confident that this jumbled thinking was actually and external influence. Something, a gas or aerosol, was affecting his mind. Quickly he glanced around trying to pinpoint anything that could be leaking noxious gasses into the vicinity and to his surprise, found a lunchbox sitting on the floor a few yards in front of him. It was open, and food was spilling out over the edges. Pickle sandwiches, cheese cakes, apples, bananas, chocolates… his mouth watered. His stomach clenched and he took a step forward but his previous thoughts came back harshly.

Something was affecting his ability to think. He knew it. Could feel it. His breathing was wrong, laboured. His pulse was fast and painful in his temples. His eyesight blurred slightly. This wasn't just hunger or thirst related. He was suffocating slowly. How long had he been feeling like this? He couldn't remember exactly, and that scared him. He could _always_ remember. It was why he was in this trouble to begin with.

What if the food was poisoned too? Or was this one of the tests he was told about when he'd first been kidnapped?

His thoughts were fogging over again and Shawn decided that he preferred being able to think more than filling his gut and his lungs with chemicals that could kill him. He stumbled back the way he came, moving quickly toward where he remembered it being safe to breathe. Eventually he felt the pressure in his chest loosen and his head felt a lot clearer. It was at this point that Shawn knew for a fact that something had been cloying the air in that corridor. His stomach cramped again, reminding him that the decision to leave that food behind wasn't his best choice but really, could he trust anything in this place? Things were beginning to look rather bleak at that moment.

Was the test supposed to test his ability to trust his captors word? Would he do that regardless of the tests? No! So why trust it now? He couldn't. Could he even trust that this supposed exit was actually an exit or just a metaphor for the afterlife? His only chance was to hope his father was on the trail and coming in hot.

He just had to hold out until then.

Shawn hung his head and bit back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Dad… please…" His whispered plea felt pitiful but that was exactly how he felt right then.

"Help me…"

* * *

Dr Richard Herbert slowly shook his head in disappointment. He sat in an office chair clad in normal civilian wear underneath a rather dirty and worn looking lab coat. His glasses perched on the end of his hooked nose reflected the many screens before him.

"Subject 25 shows disappointing lack of logical reasoning when faced with the opportunity for food over a slight threat of asphyxiation. My previous assumption of his ASPD level will be reviewed based on further analysis." He spoke chillingly into his Dictaphone then clicked the recording device off. He leaned further forward in his chair and watched as Shawn move cautiously down one of the many corridors that had been set up.

Richard had been planning this experiment for over twenty years. This building had been his biggest lucky break, an old factory with its own mine attached. The tunnels and corridors extended deep into the mountain side and underground and gave him plenty of play space to create his living nightmare. And even better, when the factory had been closed down and abandoned, to prevent trespassers getting stuck and lost, they concreted all the exits. A little heavy duty machinery on one of them and all his tools and equipment and Richard had his little play house of horror ready and waiting. The only hitch in his plans was when he'd been dumping the excess machinery and gotten caught doing it. His next step had been to go out and gather his lab-rats but he'd been apprehended before he'd dumped his excess machinery instead and all his plans were put on hold until he managed to get out again.

He'd rigged the place up pretty good too. Hidden traps, both fatal and injure-only types, were set up all over the place. The people he'd picked too, some forty people in total, were the best of what he could research on. The top genes only. Sports people, health experts, top psychologists and of course, his prized candidates; sociopaths.

Although he did have one handicap in the maze too. He'd come across her by accident while looking for the boy he'd been interested years ago in Santa Barbara. Terry Doherty.

She was his anomaly. His fluke. The spontaneous quirk he'd added on a whim. She was diagnosed as autistic and had ASPD. And he was interested to see what that combination would produce in his little experiment. Her symptoms were rare in one person and he just couldn't turn away from the opportunity.

However…

He flicked his eyes over to another screen and watched as the girl in question huddled in a small nook, trying to hide from the reality he'd thrown her into. Richard had to admit that he was rather underwhelmed wither performance. He'd had such high hopes for her. Now it just looked like she was going to die embarrassingly and never understand why or how.

Shame. His charts would never reflect her existence in his experiment.

His gaze flicked back to Subject 25. Now this was a promising candidate. However, Shawn's failure at taking the food was disappointing and did not support his theory. However, there were bound to be unpredictables and anomalies and Richard was ever the scientist if nothing else.

And he would record the data regardless of whether he liked the results or not.

Another screen to his left suddenly lit up and Richard's gaze swung across to the newly live streaming data upon it. He watched as a trail of passengers from the Boston flight flowed into the arrivals lounge. He watched avidly as the flow of people slowed and then trickled to only a few.

Then he saw her.

Radiant as ever, older now but still the most uptight, obtuse woman he'd ever met.

Maddie Spencer.

Richard grinned wildly and moved across to his laptop.

He had an email to write.

* * *

 **A/N:** _8 pages! I've had literally no time to write this but I've managed to anyway so how's that for priorities? Let me know what you think_ _!_


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